The World Turns
by Alucardh
Summary: As the wars of the 40k universe reach their climax, the Doctor returns to finish what he started.  But he has much work to do before he can restore save the Imperium from not only the xeno threats, but its internal Chaos.
1. No, you're wrong

Since my primary goal is to do Doctor Who crossovers with different series, I guess I have to start sometime. Here goes:

Chapter 1: No, you're wrong

I hate it when people say I'm wrong. Really hate it- as in want to kill the people who say I'm wrong. If they do it often enough, I do kill them.

Then they stop, and I'm at least moderately closer to happiness again. It used to happen a lot around here- now it doesn't. I would call that a success.

The Inquisition stopped by here briefly the other month- seems they thought there was a serial killer. All they could find was a bunch of old men, though,

who looked like they couldn't even lift up a weapon, let alone kill anything. They didn't find me though.  
The shadows are my friends- they love me, protect me when others want to hurt me or take me away. They swallow me up, and I am dark as night. One

of my friends used to get creeped out by that- I could just step out of the shadows and scare the living hell out of him. He's gone now- They came and

said he was "compatible." What the hell does that even mean "compatible." He's not some computer to be integrated by one of those crazy engineer

priests. He was a normal person. They didn't find me though- the shadows wouldn't let them. One tried to go up to my room- he never got there. No

one knows what happened to him...he just vanished. The shadows took him. They said he was happy where he was- he was laughing. Always laughing,

rhythmic and cheerful. That was okay with me- as long as he never bothered me, I didn't care.

People ask who I am, where I am from. I don't remember- I have always been adult, always been here. The shadows always cared for me, when no one

else did. People have come up with their own names for me; usually weird ones, like Kabal or Charles. My favorite is the one the old innkeeper used to

call me, before the shadows took him away so he wouldn't call the Guardsmen on me for stealing his wine. He called me Sadow- said it was the name of

some old Chaos Sorcerer who tried to taint some old planet. I didn't like that too much, but the shadows were okay with it. It's been bothering me though-

I may be strange, outside the norm, but that doesn't mean I'm Chaos. Does it?

I don't worry- people do that too much. People laugh at me because I look weird. Someone told me I should buy new clothes. But I don't need them. I bought

a pair just a year ago; maybe 2 years ago. Alright, it could have been 3, or even 4, or 5. It doesn't matter- when I'm in the dark, embraced by shadows, no one

can see me. I don't even eat much anymore- the darkness now sustains me. Only when I spend long times outside, in the world of sun and heat, do I require

sustenance. Then I just sneak into the inn and get food and drink. The shadows don't like alcohol- they say that drunkenness is a crime against their existence.

I don't understand, but they're never wrong so I only drink water and juice. I don't mind- they give me everything. I have seen visions, looked into the farthest

past and future. Though the past is constant, the future is ever changing. I have seen the Horus heresy, the pain the Lord of Macragge felt when the Emperor fell,

the agony of Abaddon when Horus fell. But the future is weird. The future diverges. Imagine a turbulent, white-water stream that divides into two different smaller

streams around a river. One river ends two meters later in an abyss no one can see the bottom of. The other flows smoothly, no rocks or waterfalls. The future is

like that- three parts of the river, all totally different. At first, that vision was not clear. The smooth river wasn't even there at first. Then the rock appeared- slowly,

materializing, appearing with a weird nose. A grinding noise.

But what surprised me most was the reaction from the shadows. When they saw the vision, they start screaming and trying to hide behind themselves. They ran

all over each other in their struggle to be as difficult to see as possible. They hated, and more strangely were terrified, by the noise. I couldn't believe the object

though. All of space and time, the future, an infinite number of lives, depended on a single object. The shadows hated it, but in a strange way I welcomed it.

It meant change- and though my current life condition was adequate, I sensed that the arrival of this, this object, signaled something greater.


	2. What is this

Chapter 2: What is this

"Sir, something just..appeared in front of Headquarters." Commander Kiven was not having a good day. First, the convoy bearing parts

for the new Hellhound regiment had been waylaid by Dark Eldar raiders, resulting in a week delay while new parts were being shipped

out. Then his subcommander, Renk, had quit because of "too much pressure." Emperor's beard, the man had just sat at his desk all day

and filed his nails. Though Kiven was glad to get rid of the lily-livered weakling, he had to be replaced because Kiven was certainly not

going to be bothered with the masses of paperwork generated by the bureaucracy. Finally, the servitor assigned to bring him lunch had

vanished somewhere en route, meaning Kiven hadn't had lunch yet. All in all, it was a dangerous time to be around him.

"What do you mean, just appeared? Nothing just appears unless it's coming out of the Warp." The clerk trembled, but somehow stood his ground.

"No, sir, we already checked with the psyker. Though there was a ripple in their minds, it was not from the Warp. As you may recall, sir,

psyker's are trained to notice…other disruptions outside your and my perception. This one, according to the textbooks, was a filter in a

different continuum from the Warp field. This was a breach in the time field, sir."

" A breach in the time field? That's impossible. Even the abomination Necrons can't travel in time."

The clerk shook his head. "The possibility technically exists, sir. The field exists- therefore it is possible to cross it. It would require enormous

amounts of energy, not to mention astrophysical knowledge far beyond our own, but it can be done."

"Fine then, let's go see what this thing is. What does it look like."

"It's quite bizarre, sir. It's a blue box, with the inscription "Police Box", with a subinscription "Public Call". We have checked with the primary

databases, and there is no mention of this ever existing in any known world or species. The door doesn't open, and it appears to have some

kind of invulnerable shield. We tried everything from bolters to the Leman Russ' cannon, and it didn't even budge. Not even a scratch, sir."

The Commander shook his head and walked in silence through the hallowed pathways towards the training area where this object had

appeared. The stain glass windows glowed with the late afternoon sunlight, and the figures of ancient heroes long deceased were vividly

painted onto the walls. Despite all the frustration and pain currently passing through his life, Kiven smiled. It was good to be in the Imperium

these days; so many opportunities for glory and prestige if you did your duty to the best of your abilities, and took all the right opportunities

when they presented themselves.

He approached the blue box, and, following an old Terran tradition, knocked his knuckles against the door three times. There was no response,

so he repeated the process. A harried voice from within yelled out "Hold on, hold on, bit of a mess in here. You try a transuniversal materialization

through a collapsing wormhole and see how you fare." A few seconds later, the door swung open and a young man stood there. The Commanders

thick eyebrows rose several inches as he surveyed the man's eccentric attire. He wore a long brown trench coat over a pinstripe suit, glasses that

were high on his nose, and he had an odd looking wand in his hand with a blue globe at the end. His feet had highly unorthodox red high-top shoes

that said Converse on the side. In whole, a very strange appearance. The man flashed him a quick grin. "Hello there, do I know you?"


	3. Not really

Chapter 3: Not really

The commanders eyebrows went up even further. "I highly doubt it- we've never even seen your…ship before today.

There is no information on it in our databanks, so I highly doubt I'll find anything on you." At this the young man frowned. "There's nothing on a

blue box in there? No instructions, no messages, not even a vague reference to a blue box?"

"No, not even a hint. My engine priests were very careful."

"Your engine what? Machines aren't a religion last time I checked. I'd better take a look at these databases of yours. Either you lot are totally incompetent

or something is very wrong."

"Sir, you are on a highly protected ground. We have graciously chosen to let your box remain undamaged, but you are to come with me to the interrogation

room so we can identify you. You are under suspect for heresy, so I would step carefully."

"First of all, nothing you've got could lift or damage this box. You can't do anything with it even if you try, and I'm sure you already did. Second- I have

permission from very high authority. Look at this paper." The man pulled out a little notebook from his coat and flashed a page at the Commander,

who blinked. The man, apparently called The Doctor, had the highest possible access level, signed by the Lord of Macragge, the High Council, and even

some high ranking Inquisitor Kiven had never heard of. Half these people's existence was hidden from the general public for their safety.

"Alright, you're right on both accounts. You have access to pretty much everything- so let's go take a look at the databse."

"That's the spirit" said the Doctor cheerfully, then without a warning began sprinting towards the office buildings. Kiven sent a couple of the faster

Guardsmen in his honor guard to make sure he was doing what he said, and then strolled after him at a more leisurely pace. There was no quicker

way to drop morale and lose dignity then to appear red faced, puffing and sweating. Meanwhile, the Doctor hurtled through the hallways, with questions

full in his mind. Why wasn't there any trace of his efforts in this world? He remembered the Emperor so well, in the prime of his life. The man must have

been dead for millienia by now- pity. He had been a good soldier, and had been talented at following the Doctor's orders, a rare trait to say the least.

He found what appeared to be a computer terminal, although there were all kinds of sigils on it that made no sense. If the TARDIS wasn't translating them,

that was a really bad sign for them. Either they were so old or so advanced it couldn't pick them up, or they just didn't make sense. It didn't matter- he pointed

his sonic screwdriver at the screen, and buzzed it at several different settings. He opened up the Inquisition files, the Sisters of Battle files, and the High Council

files, and did a quick search for blue box. He had to sonic it again when the computer signaled a loading time of 2 days. No wonder this system was in such

chaos, if a basic computer search was going to take this long. The results reluctantly were dragged on screen, and they weren't much. Blue boxes apparently

were a scarcity- and none of them traveled in time. The Doctor couldn't believe that- he had left specific instructions with half a dozen people for specific

instructions to commence when he arrived. Heck- the psyker's that sensed the disturbance his TARDIS created when landing should have immediately send a

relay message towards the center of the Imperium, Terra, alerting whoever was in charge that he was here and ordering an immediate gathering of everyone

who had highest authority in their segment who was within a day's travel. And here he was, arriving, and nobody knew who he was, which hurt his ego but

was less important, but more importantly what the blue box signified- and that lack of knowledge could be fatal to humanity.


	4. Assume Nothing

Chapter 4: Assume Nothing

The computer terminal had no information to offer, on Timelords or blue boxes or the Doctor. While problematic, that was not

the end of the world. In the 40k universe, the TARDIS was a tremendous asset, in fact far greater than it was in the Doctor's

own universe. The warp had many amazing functionalities, though less than before those metaphysical creepers, Khorne,

Tzeetnch, and Nurgle, arrived on scene and started distorting it to their own will. The Doctor's favorite use for it had remained,

however- it functioned as a paradox machine. This was designed by the Ancient Ones, for they had foreseen the possibility of

the Imperium developing time travel, and knew that humanity was too overwhelmed by greed and ambition to be expected to

follow the rules of time- never to cross their own time line and never to interfere with the past. The power of the future to be

rewritten was too great a tool to be left unused, so the warp would hold space-time continuum together until the Timelords,

whose presence the Ancient Ones had also predicted, could arrive on seen to fix the problem.

The sum of all that is that the Doctor could go back in time, to important points in 40k history, and insert himself in order to assure

that humanity was following his instructions, such that they might succeed now. The reason the paradox machine fell into this

was that if the Doctor had fixed all those points, he never would have arrived here and thusly never would have known the need

to go back in time so he wouldn't have done so, in which case he wouldn't have gone back in time, forcing him to come here from

where he went back in time. This circular logic would create a paradox that would summon the reapers, which was why the warp's

ability was so critical. First, the Doctor would have to go back to shortly after his departure. He had left when the Emperor had achieved

complete domination over the Imperium, not wishing to interfere in the policy forming of the first completely unified government in this

particular universe of humanity.

With this plan now in mind, the Doctor turned toward the hallway in preparation to head back to the TARDIS. The Commander chose

this moment to emerge from the corridor, and he strode over to the Doctor.

"Well, any luck? Did my engine priests miss anything?"

"Your whole civilization has been destabilized and is stagnating around two millennia, both technically and philosophically. Culturally

you're not too far off, but that's mostly because this isn't supposed to be a period of cultural revolution. Basically- I have to go back

in time and figure out where you lot went wrong?" The Commander looked slightly indignant- no one could really blame him, the Doctor

had just slighted his entire civilization, the product of 40,000 years of hard work on the part of humanity.

"Really, Doctor. I understand that you're frustrated, but you could at least recognize our achievements." The Doctor rolled his eyes; this

was standard human bravado, which he didn't really want to deal with.

"Name one achievement you've made since the Emperor was elected."

"The Adeptus Astartes."

"A super race of soldiers- that isn't an achievement, that's a weapon. You've basically found a way to make an army of cyborg soldiers

and given them a different name." The Commander's eyes widened in disbelief –coming from anyone with less credentials, that

sentence would have gotten them killed by a firing squad.

"The Land Raider." The Doctor almost laughed out loud at that.

"A piece of metal junk you lot have way too much pride in. The only reason it's so secure is that you put so many layers of metal

on top. When you're enemies, probably Tau first, discover the trick of long range metal melting, you lot are going to have a time

of it." The Commander blinked; he had never even considered the possibility that you could melt metal from a distance, let alone

considered it a practical concern. But he had the ultimate weapon at his disposal.

"The Golden Throne- stasis field, regenerative abilities, and all." The Doctor smiled.

"Finally a good one- and one to which I don't have the answer, at least yet. When you lot designed it, it was significantly beyond

the capability of even your most clever scientists. I have a theory about it- but I want to see it confirmed before I divulge it. But I

have to go- see you around the universe, Commander. Good luck in –whatever it is you military types do out here." With that,

the Doctor entered the TARDIS, and with a grinding sound dematerialized. The Commander stared in complete disbelief as the

blue box faded out of sight, vanishing right before his face. He put his hand out, but there was nothing there. At that moment,

a piece of paper fell to the ground. It had obscure writings on it. Several hours later, when his scribe managed to identify the

script as ancient High Terran, he translated it to mean: "Assume nothing."


	5. Holy Terra

Chapter 5: Holy Terra

The grinding of the brake being left on didn't even register in the Doctor's mind anymore, it was so typical. His TARDIS

databanks showed what seemed to be accurate- the WH40k human universe had simply stopped in time, evolutionaril

y speaking, for several millennia. This had of course allowed the Tau to pick up speed and the Orks to get footholds in

valuable planets that the Emperor would never have conceded. No wonder this was such a war-torn universe; the

Timelords' chosen people had completely failed. That was of no consequence, of course. With the Warp's paradox

machine ability, everything could be fixed in a jiffy. "Hmm", the Doctor murmured to himself. "I don't think I ever want

to even think the word 'jiffy' again." The grinding gradually came to a halt, and the Doctor hurried out the doors. The

sunshine was so bright he sneezed about four times, and then he had to wait for the sunspots from his overloaded

retinas to clear before he could really see. He was kind of sad that the sunspots left when the real world replaced them.

Five Guardsmen surrounded the box, with a sergeant standing about five feet away talking quickly into a vox. The Doctor

groaned, rolled his eyes at the sheer ridiculousness of not being recognized, and snapped "I want a Chimaera, two Generals,

and a technical blue print of this city complete with a summarized history spanning the time since the Horus Heresy. Oh, and

also a complete biological analysis of the Space Marines. Oh, and a cup of caffeine. I haven't slept in longer than you've

been alive."

The Guardsmen blinked and looked confused, two aspects of life that came very easily to them. The Sergeant, however,

was not quite so easily bemused. "Shut up, you pathetic idiot. I give the orders around here. Until I have confirmation

otherwise, you are either a heretic or a xeno. So keep your mouth shut and obey orders. Give me your citizen ID, the identity

and type of your craft, and your reason for being on Holy Terra. Give it quick, or I shoot!" The Doctor laughed.

"Oh you lot, think you're so invincible. Give it another two millennia and there will be three races fighting over this planet,

none of which will be you. I'm the only person who can stop that, so you might want to stop acting like a private with an

inferiority complex and just let me step in here." The Sergeant turned bright red in the face.

"You dare insult me and His troops? You would even consider another race on this planet? You don't need to answer any

more questions, you spineless dismal snake. You're as heretical as they get. Men, fire at will. Shoot the vessel, too. No

need to take prisoners." The Guardsmen pulled out lasguns, the Sergeant his plasma pistol, and they started shooting.

Moments later, they stopped shooting, mouths hanging open with eyes wide in disbelief. Each shot hit some kind of shield,

an invisible force that reverberated gently with each shot, as though dissipating the energy. "Impossible" gasped the Sergeant,

wiping the sweat off his brow. "Nothing can withstand the holy fire of Terra's sacred weaponry."

"Obviously it can. Face it, Sergeant. My technology makes everything in this universe look shabby in comparison. Much as

I would love to stay and chat, though, I have business to take care of. If you would care to stop playing soldier and tell me

the coordinates of the palace on this planet, I can avoid having to do an extended examination of the surface for it myself."

"You may have superior weaponry, alien heretic –[the Sergeant couldn't decide how to classify the Doctor]- but you do not

have the heart of a Guardsmen and loyal soldier to the Holy Emperor, long may he reign. You'll never get any information from us."

The Doctor shook his head in exasperation. He walked swiftly up to the Sergeant, grabbed him by the collar, and lifting him up

began shaking him. His mouth curled into a snarl and he yelled into the man's face,

"Congratulations, you've just the prize. That's right, you've become the record least-fortunate individual on Earth. You know

why? You got in my way. I'm trying to save your planet, species, history, and future from total chaos and destruction, and you

tell me I don't have heart. I could go back to my universe and continue my fun exploration of a time and space not so bothered

by war, but I'm pulled to this universe because I care about humanity. Currently, though, your egocentric and bigoted attitude

is becoming a severe detriment to my interest in your future safety. Face it- the fate of your entire species lies in your hand. D

o you want to be the man who wouldn't let the Doctor save his skin out of pride, or do you want to be the first herald of a

second Golden Age of humanity? It's your choice, Sergeant. Be a haughty coward or a legendary hero." The Doctor was stretching

it a bit here- he seriously doubted that any man with this little imagination or open-attitude could ever be a hero of any kind. But

the fate of his most beloved species was far more important to him than whether or not this man let him do what needed to be

done for the right reasons.


End file.
